Nathan stood in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, the soft glow of the evening light catching on the edges of his reflection. At twenty-five he had the lean, ordinary frame of any other young man heading out for a night with friends, but the clothes he chose tonight were anything but ordinary.

He started with the shirt. The light pink fabric was soft and slightly cropped, ending just above the waistband of what he was about to put on. Dark pink trim edged the crew neckline and the ruffled cuffs of the short sleeves. Across the chest, bold black script spelled out the words that always made his stomach flutter: Daddy’s Panty Pooper. He smoothed the fabric down, feeling the familiar mix of embarrassment and excitement settle under his skin.

Next came the diaper. It was thick, adult-sized, and heavy in his hands. The waistband and landing zone were printed with soft pastel polka dots and little bunnies hopping across a field of pale colors. He stepped into it carefully, pulled it up, and taped the sides snug. The padding forced his stance wider than usual. Soft white baby-style booties went on last, the kind that covered his ankles and made his steps quiet and slightly clumsy.